


Oliver Queen X Male-Reader – Safe

by writeyouin



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyouin/pseuds/writeyouin
Summary: The original Request sums up the plot just fine: You’re Thea’s best friend, also co-manager of her club Verdant. You meet Oliver, Thea’s brother and the bad boy getting in the way to your heart. One night you were closing up and ended up walking home to find yourself in trouble. Oliver aka Green Arrow had been following you to make sure you’re safe. You get hurt in the crossfire and he takes you back to his lab. Scared and confused, his touch made you feel a lot safer. You thank him with having sex with him.





	Oliver Queen X Male-Reader – Safe

You fought your way through Verdant, aiming to get to Thea who you helped manage the club; you needed her signature to agree to a new order of furniture. It was never an easy task, finding someone in the sea of faces across the club floor, yet the paperwork needed to be signed today or the order would be cancelled. You stood on your tiptoes in order to see above everyone, someone pushed past you, knocking you backwards into another patron.

“OY, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING ASSHOLE?!”

You turned around to face a meaty, bald man, adorned with fierce looking tattoos. Upon closer inspection, you saw that you’d spilt his pint over him, soaking his shirt entirely.

Slipping into full business mode you responded, “I am so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to disrupt your evening. As co-manager of Verdant allow me to extend my deepest apologies and get you free drinks for tonight.”

The man grabbed your arm firmly, dragging you close enough to smell his foul breath, tainted with stale alcohol, “Sorry isn’t gonna cut it.”

The grip on your arm tightened causing you to gasp out in pain, you tried to pull away in protest, which only made the pain worse. An unforgiving hand rested on the man’s shoulder, he craned his neck to face Oliver Queen, “The gentleman apologised, now either you let him go and take the offer or I call security and throw you out myself.”

It was unusual how you found Oliver’s statement to sound both friendly and threatening simultaneously. The man glared at him, clearly weighing out his options, finally, he released you, passing by with a growl of, “This isn’t over.”

You turned to face Oliver, although this was your first time meeting him you recognised him from all the previous news coverage.

“Mr Queen,” you shouted to be heard over the noise of the crowd, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m-”

“(F/N) (L/N).” Oliver finished with a smile, “Yes, I know all about you.”

“You do?”

“Of course, I make it my business to know who my sister claims to be her best friend; it seems she made an excellent choice in you.”

You were suddenly glad for the clubs flashing lights which hid the crimson peppering your cheeks in a blush. Before you stood the elusive Oliver Queen, bad boy extraordinaire, who not only knew who you were but had also saved you from a potentially dangerous situation. From the way Thea talked about him you had expected someone distant and mean, of course you didn’t know him well enough to judge but he had made a lasting first impression of someone with integrity and honour.

You blinked rapidly and looked away from him, realising that you’d been staring, “I uh, never thanked you.”

Oliver nodded and took a step back, “It’s fine, just make sure you’re careful, guys like that are dangerous.”

“And what about guys like you, Mr Queen?”

You didn’t know what made you ask the question and although Oliver heard it he was already walking away, disappearing into the throng of the club.

* * *

It had been several weeks since your first meeting with Oliver Queen and you couldn’t get him out of your head. The way he moved, spoke, and acted filled your waking moments with pleasant imaginings of how the two of you would be as a couple. You had even taken to visiting Thea more at the house in the hopes of catching the smallest glimpse of him. Your plan worked to an extent, while waiting for Thea you had come face-to-face with Oliver multiple times and while you always got the feeling he was hiding something, you couldn’t help but feel that he was always happy to see you. You didn’t care if it was impossible or if Oliver truly was as distant as described, you only cared to remember him as the saviour he had been.

You were just imagining whether he’d call you by a pet name when your phone interrupted the illusion, you checked the caller ID, answering instantly when you saw it was Thea.

“Hey Thea, what’s up?”

“(Y/N), thank God you answered, where are you?” Thea asked hastily.

“In the Glades, I was just about to get a taxi home, why?”

“I need you to drop by the club and lock up. The furniture guys left it open and I’m nowhere nearby to help. I swear, if anything’s been stolen then I will be right on their asses for this. I made it very clear to them where the spare keys are and-”

“Thea, calm down.” You cut her off, “I’m on my way there now, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Thea calmed down, “Ring me if anything’s out of place.”

“Bye Thea.” You laughed, hanging up to head to the club.

When you got to Verdant you explored a little to make sure nothing was out of place, once you were satisfied that everything was alright you set up the security systems and headed out, locking the doors as you left.

Oliver – No, tonight he was the Vigilante – stalked across the roof tops much like a tiger hunting its prey. He couldn’t believe how reckless you were being, walking alone through the Glades at night. Although there was an entire city to protect and multiple names left to cross off the list, Oliver couldn’t help but feel that it was you that needed to be protected. After all, the man you had oh so innocently spilt a drink on was none other than Victor Mirin, a gang leader who profited from drug smuggling; Oliver had planned to leave Mirin until some of the more dangerous city criminals had been taken care of but then you had upset the gang lord and Oliver couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t safe.

A call from Diggle distracted Oliver for a moment, however a moment was all it took, by the end of the call your screams pierced the quiet of the night. Oliver ran to the rooftops’ edge to examine the situation. You were held in place by a tanned man who looked like he’d seen too many steroids in his life, one hand was covering your mouth to stop you from making any further noise. Victor Mirin himself stood in front of you monologuing about how the city used to respect him, he was casually waving a small, black handgun around as if it were a mere children’s’ toy. As part of Mirin’s intimidation technique there were four more hired guns, each equipped with M16A4 assault rifles; Oliver made a mental note to find the supplier of the weapons which were military grade.

Desperate tears stained your cheeks, nothing could describe the fear that was coursing through you. You couldn’t get over the fact that the people closest to you would turn on the news the next day and see that you’d been gunned down in an alley; then again, with the level of crime in the Glades, you might not even be mentioned at all, just another John Doe in the morgue.

You looked up, searching the sky for an answer, and found yourself astounded to see the silhouette of the infamous vigilante. He held a finger to his lips, your eyes moved to the ground so you wouldn’t give him away. The silence didn’t last long as an arrow whizzed overhead, finding its mark in a pipe, the gas it released obscured Oliver from view as he jumped down to attack.

Guns fired left, right and centre while the gang shot randomly with the faintest glimmer of hope that they would hit their target. You felt a piercing pain in the soft flesh below your ribs as a stray bullet ripped through it. Sliding down against the alley wall, you held a hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. You weren’t sure exactly how long it was till the alley fell silent and the fighting stopped. All you were aware of was the rapid beating of your heart, they sudden lack of air, and the sweat that was slowly drenching your body.

“Are you okay?” The vigilante’s voice echoed around you, he was surveying the scene around him instead of looking at you.

You tried to focus on his voice, then with a shaky laugh you answered, “I-I t-think I’ve j-just been s-shot.”

“WHAT?!”

Oliver threw all caution to the wind and rushed over to you. Even in the darkness of the night there was no mistaking the flowing blood soaking through your shirt; there would be no time for a hospital to fix this, he would have to do it himself at the hideout. He picked you up, trying not to jostle you as he ran.

“(Y/N), stay with me now, tell me something about yourself okay, just don’t fall asleep,” Oliver demanded.

You tried to sort through the jumbled thoughts your bran was sending you, “…’s nice you know m’ name.” You mumbled drowsily.

The remaining light dimmed slowly away until you were no longer aware of the world around you, the last thing you were sure of was a searing hot pain and your name being shouted repeatedly.

* * *

You fidgeted stiffly, wondering how your bed had grown to be so cold and uncomfortable; was it possible that you had fallen onto the floor?

“Don’t get up too fast.” A familiar voice commanded.

Your eyes snapped open as a rush of memories flooded through you. You jolted up, instantly regretting the action as a new wave of pain burned through you.

“Easy, be careful there,” the vigilante came to your aid, wrapping his arms around your shoulders for support.

Only, it wasn’t the vigilante; you were sat face to face with Oliver Queen. A multitude of questions exploded in your brain and yet the best you could manage was a croaky, “That’s how you knew my name.”

Oliver grasped your meaning, nodding in consent, “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you lied, putting a brave face on, “you?”

“I wasn’t shot.” He backed away slightly, standing next to a tray of medical tools and what remained of your blood-soaked shirt.

“Can I start asking stuff now or do I have to commit to an oath that says I won’t tell anyone you’re the vigilante?”

Oliver’s lips twitched amusedly, “I’ll take your word for it, ask away and I’ll answer the best I can, you’ve earned that much.”

“Does Thea know about this?”

“No and I want it to stay that way.”

“What did you do to me?” You looked to where the bullet had been, there was now a thick, padded bandage taped over it.

“Unfortunately I couldn’t get you to a hospital so I did the best with what I had and cauterised the wound here. It was a clean entry and exit. It’ll leave a scar though, sorry about that.”

“Sorry? Oliver, you just saved my life and you’re sorry.”

“Moving on.”

You took a deep breath and asked the question that was really weighing down on you, “Are the men in the alley dead?”

There was a slight hesitation before you received an answer, “Yes.”

A wave of nausea passed over you at how calm Oliver was despite having killed people, no matter how evil they had been.

“Oh God, oh God, they’re dead. No-no-no-no-” you stuttered sickly, moving to get up.

Oliver grabbed your shoulders again, holding you in place on the metal table, “(Y/N), I know this seems scary but please stay calm.”

The warmth of his touch and tranquil composure served you well, lulling you into a sense of security.

Oliver looked down to you again, “Are you going to be okay?”

You stared at him, then with a tentative movement you leaned up, brushing your lips lightly against his.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, “What’re you-”

“Shh.” You pressed your finger lightly to his lips, “You make me feel safe… please let me be safe.”

When there was no argument you got up, slowly this time, leaning against Oliver for support. He placed a hand to the small of your back, “Why?”

“I never thanked you.”

You kissed him again, before he had the chance to push you away. Your hand ran against the stubble on his chin, his lips were smoother than imagined, and within that one kiss you were allowed to lose yourself, forgetting the earlier attack. For Oliver, it had been all too long since he had allowed himself to be intimate with someone, let alone someone who knew both sides of him; with you he didn’t have to choose between being Oliver Queen and the Vigilante, with you he could be both.

All too soon the kiss ended, you made up for that with hungry nibbles to his neck, leaving marks where your teeth grazed. Oliver lifted you carefully back onto the table, perching you on the edge.

You pulled off his vest, there wasn’t time to eye up his scars before he began fondling your balls, gently massaging the thin stretch of skin between with his thumbs; you began panting uncontrollably, all too aware of how hot he was making you. You were sure that the foreplay could have gone on forever but you were impatient, having fantasised about this moment nightly for weeks, albeit not in a hideout or with a gunshot wound but you had dreamt about it nonetheless.

You unzipped his pants, allowing him to remove them and his underwear, you slipped off your own, discarding them to the floor during the process. You rolled onto the table, pulling Oliver with you so he was hovering above you.

“Is this really alright?” Oliver asked raggedly, his eyes dark with desire.

You pulled him down for another starved kiss, “Does that answer your question?” You breathed with a smile.

Oliver still looked a little unconvinced. You reached down, grabbing his member and rubbing up and down. Occasionally you would alternate your speed, when Oliver couldn’t take anymore he thrust his hand onto your cock in return, showing you how great a hand-job could really be.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that,” he growled throatily, “It only makes me do things like this.”

He pinched the foreskin, “Fuck,” you screamed in pure ecstasy, “Stop playing and let me cum already.”

Oliver nodded like a man in a trance, kneeling up so you could manoeuvre onto your stomach. He buried himself into you with a murmured, “Shit.”

“Holy hell Oliver,” you cried out as a fresh combination of pleasure and pain overcame you, the gunshot adding fiery torment despite how delicate Oliver was trying to be; it made his every move all the more sensual.

“(Y/N),” he rasped, “Fuck, I wanted this for so long.”

Oliver bucked back and forth, setting a rhythmic pattern. You raked your nails across the table, keeping as much self-control as you could; it seemed that the minor stabs of pain you were getting were nothing compared to the electric pleasure pooling in the tip of your cock. Unable to take any more you touched yourself sensually, still moaning Oliver’s name as you did so; it didn’t take long to cum after that.

Hearing you so reliant on him sent Oliver over the edge, with a jerky motion he stopped, cumming inside you; the sensation sent you reeling as the world around you seemed to darken slightly.

You fought to keep consciousness. Oliver stayed in place for a moment, only pulling out when his breathing returned to a more regular state. He pulled you on top of him so that you could both remain on the small table for a while. You sighed contently, enjoying the peace for a short while.

“That was one hell of a thank you.” Oliver broke the silence after a few minutes.

“Yeah… you should see it when I apologise.” You joked back.

Oliver smiled, then asked something that was troubling him, “What do you want from me?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m a vigilante who hunts criminals, I want to be with you but… can you be with someone who won’t always be there?”

You craned your neck to look at him, “I think I can manage that, can you be with someone who’s your sisters best friend?”

“I think I can manage that,” he echoed, stroking your arms languidly.

“Then we have a deal.”


End file.
